


As Good As I Ever Was

by druscilla



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Facials, Light BDSM, M/M, Name-Calling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Suspension Of Disbelief, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:11:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4866011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/druscilla/pseuds/druscilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A suspended disbelief time travel story in which Patrick decides to go back in time and fuck himself since everyone else is doing it (so to speak).</p><p><i>Seeing twenty five year old Pete was a sucker punch, however.  This time travel thing was a trip.  He shook his head.  </i>No.<i>  They had rules about that.  He tore himself away from the sight of his twenty-five year old boyfriend hitting on some girl and walked to the far end of the bar.  “Two beers, please,” he said, pushing the second bottle toward his younger self, knowing he wouldn’t refuse.  God, picking himself up was going to be easy.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	As Good As I Ever Was

Patrick tried to do the deep breathing and head clearing as he walked down the hallway. _(‘If you think about it too much, you’ll never be able to get off,’ Pete had crudely warned him after he’d gone through Patrick’s phone and found the email confirmation.)_

It was the world’s longest hallway and Patrick was sure that wasn’t a flaw in the design. He took a deep breath and then pushed the door open before he could back out. This had been way too expensive to chicken out. He gasped aloud as he stepped through the door and was suddenly in a dark club where a band he didn’t quite recognize was playing onstage.

What he did recognize was himself, barely eighteen, and sitting on a stool at the end of the bar. He was looking wistfully at something across the room and Patrick wasn’t at all surprised to see Pete when he turned to look. 

Seeing twenty five year old Pete was a sucker punch, however. This time travel thing was a trip. He shook his head. _No._ They had rules about that. He tore himself away from the sight of his twenty-five year old boyfriend hitting on some girl and walked to the far end of the bar. “Two beers, please,” he said, pushing the second bottle toward his younger self, knowing he wouldn’t refuse. God, picking himself up was going to be easy.

Younger Patrick tried not to blush and failed. He mumbled a thank you and took a sip, struggling to tear his eyes off of Pete Well, that made two of them. 

“Friend of yours?” Patrick asked, fighting his smile. 

Younger Patrick balked, nearly spilling his drink. “What? I—sorry. No.”

“I’m Travis,” Patrick said, saying the first name that popped into his head and reminding himself to change it when Pete forced the details out of him later.

“Patrick,” his younger self said, sticking out his hand and looking completely endearing. It was too bad he’d never had eyes for anyone except Pete because he definitely would have fared all right.  
Patrick/Travis spent the next two hours plying his younger self with alcohol. He managed to make both of them forget about Pete until he wandered over, a girl with hideous scene striped hair on his hip.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he said to younger Patrick with a territorial tone he really had no right to. Both Patricks visibly bristled at it.

“Tons,” the younger boy said pointedly. “Why don’t you leave me to it?”

Patrick hid a smile behind his hand. His younger self still didn’t take any of Pete’s shit. He needed to give himself a bit more credit. The bassist huffed and wandered off, pulling the scene girl by her hand.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Patrick asked, reaching out ot grab his younger self’s thigh under the table. He felt the instinctual tensing and then the reserve to hold it in place. 

“Yeah,” the younger boy agreed, tapping his fingers nervously on that same thigh while Patrick paid the tab.

He was supposed to walk out the front door of the club and they would suddenly be back at ‘his place’ with younger Patrick ready to go. You could buy the package with just that option. The one he had purchased was jokingly called the “Catholic package”, so you could assuage your guilt before you sinned.

Sure enough, when he pushed the door open, he was in a bedroom while his younger self stared up at him from the mattress, blue eyes wide. “You want me to do what?”

Patrick considered it. “Just lay down,” he said gently, not really wanting to fuck himself the way he would Pete. God, if younger him only knew the strings he would be pulling in just a few years.

Those jeans were stupidly tight and his arms look like twigs as he pushed himself back toward the pillows. He didn’t lay down, just leaned back against his arms. That was when Patrick’s instincts took over. 

He didn’t seem to think as he crawled up to bed to straddle younger Patrick’s waist and push him flat on his back. “I thought I told you to lay down.” The kiss was painful and the younger boy moaned into it, arching up, already hard. “You need to learn to listen, I think.”

Younger Patrick hesitated, then went for it. “Are you going to make me?”

Now they were both hard. Patrick moved to flip the younger boy over on his lap and his hand came down instantly. He felt his younger self grinding his hips against Patrick’s thighs. He had no shame. Worse than Pete. The next strike was harder and by the fifth, younger Patrick was all but dry humping him while he moaned like a cheap whore.

“Maybe you could do something better with that mouth,” the older boy mused darkly.

“Please?” the younger asked in a breathy little voice that suggested there was nothing in the world he would rather do. He pulled off his glasses before he slowly took the tip in his mouth. Younger Patrick had no idea how to suck cock, but what he lacked in technique he made up for in enthusiasm. He bobbed his head wildly for the first few minutes so it was no surprise he tired himself out quickly.

When that happened, Patrick threaded his hands in the younger boy’s hair, trying not to think about how well he knew the touch of it, better than Pete’s even. The younger boy moaned and tried not to choke as he felt his face being fucked. He swore when he gagged and tried to pull back when he felt the length hitting the back of his throat, but that wasn’t an option. There was no way to tell how long the assault on his mouth lasted, but he could barely keep his lips apart when it was over. 

Patrick pulled back and flipped the half-collapsed back onto his back. “Oh, you dirty little thing,” he whispered. “You’re not tired yet, are you? The fun’s just starting.” 

Younger Patrick made a small noise in the back of his throat as his eyes closed, but they immediately popped back open when he felt a knee pressing between his legs. “You better look at me if you want me to fuck you.”

The fire in those words seemed to race through younger Patrick’s veins. He moaned and rocked his hips against Patrick’s thigh, any ache in his jaw forgotten over the feelings stirring below his waist. “Are you going to fuck me hard?” he whispered in that same slutty voice he’d asked to suck Patrick’s cock with. 

“Jesus Christ,” the older boy muttered to himself as they both pulled away to begin tearing their clothes off. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t had a slutty phase. He would have been dangerous. But it was to his advantage now. “Knees, slut,” he growled, smirking as his younger self hurried to comply. “Why don’t you warm yourself up for me?” he cooed, even though he knew it wasn't necessary. (Another perk included in the package.)

His younger self licked two fingers and then turned to look at Patrick over his shoulder while he pushed them in. Lips swollen from kissing and biting heaved in the dim light. He whimpered at the intrusion, but it was all for show because then he was shoving a third finger in and wantonly fucking himself on them. He lowered his head to the mattress for a better angle, moving the digits rapidly in and out while his moans filled the room.

Patrick stood at the foot of the bed, motionless except for the hand slowly rubbing up and down his cock. He didn’t want to think about all the ways this was wrong, watching him violate himself on the bed. And now younger Patrick was begging to be fucked. 

“Please? Please? I want your cock. You want to fuck me, right? Please fuck me.” 

Where had he learned to talk like that?

Patrick didn’t waste time thinking about it, just crawled onto the bed. His younger self pulled the fingers out immediately and got back on all fours, swearing when a hand threaded tightly in his hair, pulling back hard enough to strain his breathing.

“You’re such a good slut.” If it had been Pete, he’d have said ‘pretty slut’ but he didn’t feel right saying it to himself. 

He pushed in slowly, inch by torturous inch. Younger Patrick tried to push back and cried out when he felt a hand instantly impact against his ass cheek. “You don’t want to imagine what your ass will look like if you even think about it,” Patrick growled.

The younger boy whimpered, but he held still while he felt it sliding in, teasing him. Even after Patrick was fully in, he just held himself there, feeling the way the younger boy’s body pushed back against his, begging for it. He seemed to understand asking for it was not going to get him anywhere.

Without warning, Patrick pulled out before slamming back in to the hilt. No minute for reprieve, just a steady back and forth, hand tight in the strawberry blonde hair. He could feel how tight the younger boy was around him and he tensed every so often, making himself impossibly tighter. When he slid a hand down the boy’s length, which felt all too familiar, younger Patrick _mewed_ and pressed his hips back.

“Oh, fuck yes. Pleasepleaseplease. Oh, God, make me come.”

Patrick swore. That god damn filthy mouth. “You dirty little whore,” he choked out, as he twisted his wrist in just the right way. He had to let go of younger Patrick’s hair to keep him from collapsing against the mattress. “I’m not finished with you,” he hissed.

“Please,” the younger boy choked out with a dry sob. “Please.”

“Begging won’t get you anywhere,” Patrick teased, but angling his strokes to make sure he brushed against the boy’s prostate when he said it. The sound that followed was almost strangled. He laughed, thick in the back of his throat. “Oh, poor baby.” His wrist twisted quicker and less than a minute later, younger Patrick was coming with a string of profanities and screams, his fists twisted in the pillow.

This time, Patrick let him fall to the mattress and get covered in his own sticky mess before flipping him onto his back for the third time that night. He slid up to straddle the younger boy’s waist and reached down to grab his own cock. One, two, three quick pumps of his hand and he watched the ribbons cover younger Patrick’s face. He tried to turn his head, but he felt his hair in that vice grip again.

“Not good enough for my come, slut?” he snapped, as the tail end of his orgasm ebbed away. He ran two fingers down the boy’s face and pushed them past full, wet lips. “You better get used to it.”


End file.
